Curse of the Black Pearl : The Navy
by Shayne Pratt
Summary: In May of 1742, Jack Sparrow was arrested at Port Royal. That night the town was attacked, and the Governor's daughter kidnapped - or so the Navy believed. A hunt for the Black Pearl to recover Elizabeth Swan was undertaken, secondary, was the recovery of their prisoner and the Interceptor. (no pairings)
1. Festivus Interuptus

Note: In this story Gillette's name is given as William if it is brought up, this is simply because a friend of mine, who's portrayal he is based on, gave him that name.

* * *

 **Curse of the Black Pearl - Part 1 - Festivus Interuptus**

Ceremonies were much the same each time, all following a single pattern; though Groves admittedly to himself that he had not attended many, not any at all for someone personally known to him. He certainly did not complain of the humidity, staple of the coming Caribbean summer, or the way nearly everyone in the courtyard appeared to be holding their breath. Whether they honestly couldn't breathe for the soupy texture of the air or were expecting some grand thing to happen he couldn't be certain.

Once or twice his friend and partner Will may have discreetly elbowed him in the side as a reminder to pay attention. Gillette was far too proper to hiss or corrected him aloud for fear of causing distraction himself, or interrupting the proceedings.

Nearly an hour later the pomp and circumstance was completed and as a pair they joined the crowd to congratulate Norrington and to try to part the throng enough to allow the poor man to catch his own breath. There was of course only one individual the newly-appointed Commodore had any real wish to speak to – and she looked absolutely stunning.

As the crowd thinned out and began making their way in search of cool refreshments Miss Swan had retreated to the ramparts. Norrington excused himself and to allow the two to have a private conversation the two lieutenants completed their duty in distracting the remaining well-wishers. Of course the conversation wasn't _entirely_ private, there were more than enough people within eyesight or distant ear shot (perhaps one or two individuals who were doing their best to overhear even though they had a good idea what the subject matter was already).

In short order the two on the rampart were diminished to one, as Miss Swan inexplicably vanished over the wall. The sight was so obscured and unexpected that the two stood with jaws dropped, blinking in astonishment until their officer's shout spurred Gillette into movement and that in turn broke the spell holding Groves in place. Will of course reached the spot first and pulled him back off the wall and Theodore peered down into the water. As Will had said, missing the rocks was a sheer miracle, though the height of the wall itself was a rather daunting fall.

For a rescue to be attempted, the long circuitous route through the fort and out to the docks would need to be taken, then a boat launched to the wall and a man who was blessed with the ability to swim would need to retrieve her. Not a turn the day had been expected to take. While the other two fathered a few men and the Governor, someone still needed to remain at the garrison and disperse the partygoers. The majority chose to remain with Groves on the wall, watching for some sign of Miss Swan and the rescue party. From that vantage point he watched bubbles rise from under the waves and then a shock and ripple, larger than any stone hitting water. It rose up and spread outward. The ships rocked on their anchors as it passed and when it reached the mouth of the harbor all at once the wind turned. Suddenly the day had felt more like a Northern autumn than the beginning of a tropical summer. Groves shivered under his wool coat. Others along the wall did the same.

Around that moment someone dove off the stern of _Interceptor_ and swam toward the fort. It wasn't either of the Marines (both of whom had been selected to watch the ship to prevent their arguing to disrupt the ceremony) as Groves could easily spy their scarlet coats still on board. Unwilling to take eyes off the swimmer and the rocks below he called for a spyglass and one was promptly supplied. The man ducked under the water. The whole gathered crowed once again held their breath until he reappeared with Miss Swan in tow and then erupted into cheers.

Groves wondered whether Norrington would feel grateful to have her rescued, even by an unknown man, or robbed of the opportunity to have done so himself. The glass went to his eye again as activity moved back to the dock where the party from the fort was arriving just in time to meet the unknown rescuer and the two Marines who had dashed from the ship. Rather quickly the atmosphere he could perceive on the crowded dock moved from shaking hands to handing the man over to Gillette and a couple of Marines to be arrested. He lowered the glass to frown at another observing sailor who shrugged back.

Then the crowd parted enough to see Miss Swan, sans dress or corset and he nearly dropped the glass down into the harbor.

After fumbling for a moment Theodore raised it again and focused instead on to Marines milling about uncomfortably, the look of extreme displeasure on Gillette's face that he was certain was mirrored on Norrington's judging by the tense set to the man's shoulders, and the way the Governor fidgeted. He turned back just in time to see the now-prisoner wrap the long chain of the cuff's around Miss Swan's neck and throw her back at his captors. Yet again the day took a drastic turn.

The man, who very clearly had no desire for arrest, was swinging about up in the air while soldiers took a dunk in the water and musket balls flew every which way in an attempt to hit him. From the fort the rapports were delayed but when they were heard and the muzzle smoke noticed even more sailors and soldiers turned out and joined the watching crowd. They all observed in awe as the man swung once more over the dock then was pursued up the street, watching until the action moved out of sight.


	2. Some Nights

**A/N:** As a reminder, Gillette's first name is given as Will where it comes up, as his characterization is based on a friend's interpretation.

Thanks everyone for your patience with the long wait between chapters. These are unbetta'd, so I apologize for mistakes.

 **Curse of the Black Pearl Part 2 – Some Nights**

Over the evening meal Gillette was the center of all attention. Of course Norrington had several congratulations and offers to be treated for drinks but the gap between himself and the junior officers had been widened even more. A Captain or gentleman ranking higher was not permitted in the wardroom, and wardroom officers did not dine with the Captain (or senior), unless of course either party was specifically invited. The Commodore had been thus invited, but declined and so it fell to Gillette to tell of the capture of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Quite suddenly the earlier ceremony and the conversation on the rampart had fallen from everyone's minds.

It was a lively conversation that evening and they all remained awake and chatting well into the evening before reluctantly turning in. If a few were rather tipsy and listing that was only to be expected. Each tumbled back to their rooms. While normally lieutenants were considered far too junior to have their own quarters and normally shared with one other, Fort Charles had a small enough staff for it to be permissible. It was a luxury that was well enjoyed.

The first vibration of the outer wall around the time of the fifth bell of the first watch did nothing to rouse the fort. It was the return volley of cannon fire right over the heads of the sleeping men that did it. Soldiers, sailors, and officers tumbled from their cots and were surprised to feel a stone floor instead of rolling deck under their feet when roused by cannon fire. A ship rocked on its side with each broadside volley but the stone was unmoving. More than one of them stumbled into a wall from surprise. Once this oriented men threw on trousers and night shirts , grabbed muskets and cartridge boxes and rushed to find the source of commotion. Officers too scrambled to dress in the bare minimum and so when arriving on the wall and in the courtyard were hardly distinguishable from those they commanded.

Amidst the confusion companies and detachments were quickly formed, some not even waiting for that but taking posts on their own. Atop the wall only the barest staffing of men were present to man cannons, artillery crews were sent to man the guns not currently attended and to replace those who had been struck by the first rounds of fire. To command those crews were already officers aplenty and so only one young man was selected to report to the ramparts and he took with him a handful of midshipmen and ensigns to be runners.

When the rest of the assembled officers and men looked out toward the town they saw that already fires were alighted. From the harbor familiar cannon rapports from _Dauntless_ and _Interceptor_ echoed to them, though the shots were few and far between. The ships had only skeleton crews to maintain them between voyages. Watching the muzzle flash, Gillette was already planning how quickly they could be made ready for a pursuit in the morning. He gestured to a detachment of men, a mix of Marines and sailors, the pirates would first need to be swept from the town and back into the water, or, preferably, rounded up to join the one currently sitting in the gaol. Groups of soldiers and sailors were collected by the other lieutenants, another handful left at the entrance of the fort as reinforcements and they began the march into town.

At the furthest points from the chaos it was as if the invasion wasn't even happening. A few drunks, a few women who at first attempted to distract the men, but no pirates and no panic. Before too long though the streets took on a more yellow glow from fires further down the way and fleeing citizens began to pass them on either side, a good number of them were clutching valuables or children to their chests. From then on it was easy to understand which way to head, simply head in the direction the citizenry were flocking away from and continue toward the water.

Once closer to the chaos time was taken to construct hasty barricades to provide shelter for those fleeing and slow the advance of those invading – should they first get past those defending. About ten streets away from the water and after one such construction a sergeant touched Grove's arm, the lieutenant turned and the man pointed towards a small cluster of pirates making their way up the street. Each of them held a firelock in one hand and long knife in the other, more such weapons were bristling out of their belts. They were so coated in dirt, sand, tar and sweat so that almost no distinguishing features other than the mess could be made out. Shouting, cursing and swinging the weapons they chased a group of women up the street towards the barricade. It was hastily opened to allow the victims through and closed again. One pirate in the back of the group held a torch he was waving toward any wooden or straw structure in reach. Upon seeing the bristling muskets and bayonets they turned and began shattering shop windows, reaching through and helping themselves, seemingly unconcerned about the potential to be shot.

"Ready!" Shouted the sergeant, twelve muskets were brought to chests, the pirates still were unconcerned and Groves frowned. The pirates began taunting the soldiers to come out from behind the barricade and stop them.

"Fire." As one the detachment fired and the lead spat down the narrow street, Groves could see puffs of stucco where some went wid. The brigands were each slammed back a step or two, and he was sure they should be dead, but they quickly gathered and rushed forward and were almost at their position before a second more ragged volley struck home. This time they crumbled in a heap.

The soldiers stepped out from behind their shelter and over the forms. Theodore stopped to check the bodies and found several bloody patches in their clothes and on their bodies; he frowned again and followed the men.

At each intersection each detachment of soldiers repeated the same actions. Sheltered those fleeing, and met the pirate invaders with volleys of musketry. Every time the volleys had to be repeated before men dropped, sometimes they didn't and bayonets were met with long knives or crude but effective sabers. The curved blades easily found their mark after a parry and had to be beaten viciously aside by the stocks of the heavier muskets. Madness or hashish from Persia was the conclusion.

Without warning the town was emptied of pirates. They saw no more, heard no more and found themselves alone in the streets. A stomping of feet prompted Groves to wheel around with pistol presented and having to check himself when finding it pointed at the nose of Gillette instead of an invader. The two detachments were met by the rest at the waterfront and all saw retreating longboats. The vessels were darkened and the ship they were retreating too was blackened and shadowed. It appeared untouched by the continued fire from both the fort and anchored ships. Not a fire appeared on it though fire crews were hard at work in the town. At least their own ships were safe – damaged could be catalogued in the morning.

Another hour was spent assisting and directing in the containing and quenching of fires before returning to the fort. A few marines and sailors had been lost, a greater number was sent to the surgeon.

Not a single pirate had been located on the return, none taken prisoner and no bodies recovered. Officers and men murmured, a few recalling stories of a black ship that had sacked other forts along the main. They were dismissed.

Watches were reorganized, that took more time to create full crews in the event the brigands returned and just as exhausted men were about to turn in once more to attempt some amount of sleep before the work they knew would have to come in the morning, an ensign arrived. The young man was supposed to be at the gate but was now accompanied by a sobbing hysterical young woman.

The pirates, it appeared, had not retreated without more than just material valuables. As a pair, Gillette and Groves turned to face the Commodore's officer where the Governor was just emerging.


	3. Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

A/N Unbetta'd as usual. Remember that Gillette's given name is Will.

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 **Curse of the Black Pearl Part 3 - The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day**

There was very little sleep had by anybody that night. With the revelation of the abduction of Miss Swan once more the fort was turned out. A search was conducted of every building in the town, in the slim chance that perhaps she had rendered some escape, and all possible witnesses were interviewed. Few were located as to who it could be confirmed had actually seen Miss Swan taken by the pirates, but there were three or four individuals who told stories that did corroborate each other. Each of them reported that a pair of pirates had been seen leaving the Governor's mansion with Miss Swan, that they had gone through the main streets and out to the harbor, after which time they had conducted her into a long boat and struck out for the darkened ship. It was at that time that the raid on the town had been quitted and the invaders had made their departure.

After the last of such interviews, Gillette leaned forward over his desk with a sigh and rubbing at his eyes. The longer the night had gone on the more letters swam off the page and he doubted the legibility of his own writing at this point. He'd been told stories that ranged from the fantastical to the incredibly mundane, and at this time was almost imagining that all sounded equally practical. Barely managing to lift his head he stared longingly at a cup that was half empty and entirely frigid. No use, he was passed the point of it waking him up for another such interview and anything strong enough to do so would only keep him from managing any type of sleep at all.

He scrubbed at his eyes again and a tap sounded at the door. "Enter." Groves leaned on the frame looking equally as tired, "We've spoken to everyone, there's nothing more to be done tonight." The second man looked at the cup and if it were possible managed to look even more exhausted – and disappointed - at the lack of steam rising from it. "We've got to make him rest some." There was absolutely no need to guess who it was the needed to be made to sleep.

With another sigh, Gillette rose from his desk, dumped a handful of papers and wearily stacked them. That completed he followed his companion out of the room. It took nearly another hour to convince the Commodore they could do no more for the night. The sun would be rising soon and they needed to have their wits enough to chart a course. The Governor also took some convincing but was also made to see the wisdom of waiting until morning and then he assisted in convincing the former.

Once they were convinced to quit the pile of records and charts that were scattered across the desk, Gillette left the Governor in his friend's hands and himself led the Commodore out of the room. The man was absolutely silent walking through the fort, his manner somewhere between a hard cold anger and what would on most anyone else be considered a nearly paralyzing fear. In only a matter of hours, he'd gone from promotion and proposal of marriage to having the woman he absolutely adored (it was no secret the depth of that adoration) snatched away by men who could at the moment be doing nightmarish things.

Gillette left Norrington at the door to his room. He wished that there was something to be said, but it would sound useless. Besides, he doubted the Commodore would welcome empty consolations. Instead, the lieutenant twitched his lips in a faint ghostly sad smile and waited until the door had closed before wearily dragging his feet down to his own quarters.

Reveille and the bells woke them all only a scant three hours later. Gillette, like the rest of the fort's officers, was incredibly slow to drag himself out of his bed and dress. He first attempted to pull his shirt on backwards, and then to button his waistcoat inside out. Eventually, the task was managed though his patience was considerably shortened by that time. Breakfast was a subdued affair and it was eaten quickly despite the exhaustion of the wardroom officers. Afterwards those who had duties to attend to departed to see to them and Gillette was joined by Groves and the two of them made for Norrington's office.

It was hardly a surprise to see that he had already been awake for some time, Gillette noted somewhat enviously that even though Norrington clearly had less sleep than any of them, he was also the only person that managed to be wholly presentable that morning. As they rounded the corner he was descending the stairs and without a word collected the two and continued on his way out of the fort and into the town. Governor Swan met them there. The front section of a wall tent had been constructed as a shade and a table erected, there a map and a record of all pirate attacks around the Caribbean islands from that year (at least those already reported) were being charted on the map. It was taking up a rather large portion.

Claiming a slightly out of the way corner the two lieutenants listened to the conference and provided input where their 'research' the night before might be of use. For the most part however it was a matter of keeping each other from falling asleep on their feet from lack of mental engagement.

There was, sadly, no immediate way to tell which ship it was that had visited the evening before. Of all of the witnesses who had been interviewed, none had any solid means of identifying the ship. The pirates had not announced themselves, they had not sent a ransom, and none of the soldiers or sailors could say for certain even the name of the ship nor even a description of it as it had doused all lights as stories of a haunted fire-blackened ship had been whispered about in the night though, so had the sailors about Dauntless and Interceptor said the same thing in daylight. For his part, Gillette had shrugged off such notions.

When Groves had insisted they at least have a grain of salt to them, he had fixed the other lieutenant with a disbelieving look. "Not you as well."

"When we took all of those interviews it was the ones who told the same story that we listened to wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Why not now?"

"Because that story they were telling was of the kidnapping of a prisoner, not a ghost story."

"You don't believe in ghosts?"

"I don't believe in haunted ships which need prisoners."

Groves had only given him a look which due to the dark circles around his eyes managed to be more harried than pleading, but said no more.

Just as it was appearing that headway may be made in determining a possible course to take they were interrupted. The blacksmith apprentice from the previous day when Sparrow had been arrested somehow shoved his way past the Marines who were supposed to be keeping such rabble away from the conference and delivered news that was not even worth noting.

Yes of course they knew that Miss Swan had been taken, where had he been for the past several hours? Hiding while they did all the work of repelling the pirates, searching the town, conducting interviews, quenching fires, and beginning to formulate a plan? Oh that's right, he'd been left to sleep in the streets. Murtog, managing to look embarrassed as it was likely an argument between himself and his friend Mullroy that had allowed Turner to enter, tried to lay hands on the boy to remove him. All that resulted however was a hatchet buried in the center of their map followed by a short argument in subdued tones that (from what could be distinguished) sounded as though it may be about a matter other than a straight-forward kidnapping.

It was all that Gillette could do to keep from uttering an outburst over the idea of actually requesting Sparrow to lead them to other pirates. Sending a runner to re-secure the cells had been one of the first matters of the previous evening, and even now there were other soldiers engaged in the pursuit of the other prisoners that had managed to be released. Not a one of them had been picked up by the buccaneer crew – itself somewhat of an oddity in the attack. They were among those who were re-telling the tales of the haunted ship Black Pearl, a few of them even said that it was Sparrow who had informed them of the name. That above anything else ruled out the possibility of adding yet another interview to the papers. What use what it if all he was going to do was tell ghost stories?

Never the less, the blacksmith was removed and proceedings were able to move forward. It was decided that with the winds the night before the easiest course for a ship to take would be to head for Haiti. There was strong pirate presence on the island and it was close enough to operate out of while still having business to conduct at Jamaica. That decided, Gillette was dismissed to begin preparations to have Dauntless made ready to sail by the noon tides.

With something definitive to do the sailor felt much more awake. It was only a few minutes walk to the docks and from there a boat conducted him out to the ships. Dauntless had only a small handful of sailors aboard at the moment. Being a Man-Of-War ship she wouldn't be used for pursuit on her own. The ship carried a hundred guns and a crew of eight-hundred-fifty. She was incredibly powerful, but slow-moving. For that reason, she would not be used right away for the hunting of the pirates. Interceptor while smaller and with a much smaller compliment of guns, only eighteen, was able to make eleven knots easily. She required a much smaller crew, twelve men to sail her easily. It was a trade-off. The smaller ship could catch up to the pirate vessel, but with her small crew size she wouldn't be able to fight it. It had been decided that the two ships would work in tandem. The crew of Interceptor would do as her name described, search for the mysterious pirate ship. Dauntless would be hunting the waters nearby and once the pirates were located would be able to assist in pounding the larger ship into splinters. Being the most senior officer on the Commodore's staff, the distinction of commanding Dauntless would fall to Gillette. Normally the flag ship would of course be sailed by the Commodore himself, but these were not normal circumstances. Who would deny him the right to command the faster ship that would hunt down the brigands that had taken Miss Swan?

Thus pleased with himself, and feeling much more at ease with something to do, Gillette set the small crew to locating repairs that needed to be immediately done before the ship could be loaded with her full complement and made ready to sail. Despite the pounding that she had taken during the night Dauntless was in a remarkable state. Most of the damage appeared to be cosmetic and the men were making headway enough that he was nearly set to have word sent to begin loading.

Until the voice he had absolutely no wish to hear ever again interrupted from the quarter deck, and was joined by another annoyance. All of the men turned to find Sparrow, complete with leather hat and the crude saber accompanied by Turner demanding that the first-rate ship be handed over to the two of them. The very idea of two men attempting to take a ship from ten was absurd, the absurdity was only compounded by the sheer size of the vessel they were demanding.

Were it not for the pistol nearly pressing on his nose Gillette would have laughed along with the men. Unlike last time, it was not a friend having accidentally mistaken him for one of the invaders (insulting as the idea itself was, the mistake was understandable under those circumstances). This was a pirate, who had already proven that he was not above the unconventional in order to get what he wanted, and he was apparently teaching the apprentice to do the same. Despite the proximity of the weapon, which was moved from half-cock to the fully-armed position, Gillette took a moment to think over the matter.

Given command of the flag ship and he'd lost it to two men within half an hour of receiving it.

Moments later he and the men were ushered into a boat to be lowered over the side, where they floated and rowed for Interceptor while waving and making a ruckus to call attention to the attempted theft of the prized flag ship of the Caribbean fleet. He saw, barely, from the low deck of the bobbing skiff as Groves called Norrington's attention to their plight and the resulting chaos that followed. Sailors swung from one ship to another, forming a boarding party to steal back something that should not have been capable of being stolen in the first place.

Only to find, that the other ship, now fully supplied and already set for departure, had been the target all along and was in fact now stolen out from under their very noses. All of this, was witnessed from the new command of the miniature skiff, and was rather an embarrassment. Both personal and professional.

As if that were not enough, while he and the sailors were bobbing about in the tiny boat, rocked in the wakes of the two larger ships he suddenly became aware of a shadow looming over head. A ship, such as Dauntless, had a rather difficult time seeing something as tiny as a longboat below it. The ship, also, was currently lacking any form of steering other than perhaps the waves buffering it. When it struck the pitiful little boat the massive hull did not even vibrate and the sailors did not even notice. They were too busy shuffling about and trying to make some order of the mess that had been purposefully made to keep them busy. The lines were an absolute mess, the tackle tangled, and of course, the rudder chain snapped. It wasn't until the ship had gone some way that the Commodore was approached and shyly reminded that they had forgotten the little boat, the lieutenant, and the sailors occupying it.

For his part Gillette had thankfully managed to keep hold of a long plank after the skiff had been churned into matchsticks because otherwise it would have been impossible to tread water and remain afloat while wearing a wool coat. The sailors had all managed to do the same and that was good because to a man they were all incapable of swimming. He'd watched, forcibly calm though red in the face while the ship plowed on to the mouth of the harbor before coming to a stop and two long boats were launched to retrieve them.

By the time they were all hauled on deck the coat was so saturated with water that his shoulders were stooped from the weight alone. Gillette perceived that Norrington's mouth was drawn into a stiff line and the man did not say a word after determining the small group was unharmed. His other friend was blanched and could hardly look him in the eye. It was one of those rare moments where it was Grove's turn to stutter his way through an apology (even though he hadn't done anything), then satisfied to Gillette's health, he dissolved into laughter.

He was promptly called back to order by Norrington who'd had more than enough antics for the day.

Mustering as much dignity as one who resembled a drowned cat could, the first lieutenant requested permission to retire, and sternly notified his laughing friend that as payment for his amusement, Groves could donate a spare shirt and coat.

The entire way across the deck and below the drenched brogans squelched water and the blue coat left a dripping, sopping river.


	4. Powwow

**A/N** Just a reminder that these are unbetta'd, so feel free to let me know of any mistakes that need fixed. Ginnis and Palmer are just a couple of poor saps that I made up.

* * *

 **Curse of the Black Pearl Part 4 - Powow**

After the first lieutenant vanished below, activity on the deck of _Dauntless_ resumed. The massive ship was stopped in the mouth of the bay with both anchors dropped. Norrington was seething. Other than the stiffness in his movement and the stone-like set of his face it wasn't visible, not until he spoke, but it was enough to have the entire staff of officers skirting far around the quarter deck. It was only two lieutenants and a small handful of midshipman, and that was fortunate because it kept the skittishness from being obvious to the crew (which only consisted of the twelve sailors that had been aboard _Interceptor_ and the men who had been in the longboat with Gillette and a small handful that had attempted to take back their prized ship.

On their own, the crew continued their task of cleaning up the mess spread out upon the deck. Half of them were taken from that to either repair or replace the rudder chain. At first there was a suggestion to simply use leather to take the place of the links that had been broken, but it would only snap again from strain after sea salt dried it out. With that in mind, and the time that they now forcibly had, it made more sense to simply redo the entire thing. It wouldn't take more than an hour or two to rerun a chain or rope and the old one would be put to use elsewhere. Short as that fix is though; they still couldn't leave once it was done.

 _Dauntless_ hadn't been prepared for departure. The entire rest of the massive crew needed to be brought aboard, the Marine detachment needed to be brought on and quarters needed to be provided for them. The hold needed to be filled with enough supplies for all of these men. Considering the short distance between islands in the Caribbean corners could be cut, but, not by much. Until all of this happened, there was very little for the officers do to. It did not take four lieutenants to micromanage experienced sailors, it didn't take ten midshipmen to do that either, loading of the ship was largely the boatswain and his mate's job to supervise.

While the activity buzzed around, the first-rate continued to block the mouth of the harbor. She could not be safely moved until the repairs were completed, and so sat, gently rocked with each swell. Even though the few men aboard couldn't see those back on shore, the sailors imagined they were laughing, they couldn't even bring themselves to face towards the fort. Eventually the same rescued longboat was lowered again over the side, it had two men to row and carried a senior midshipman who himself hugged a messenger bag to his chest. Inside was a tersely written letter offering short explanation and an order for the ship's full complement of sailors and marines to immediately report to the docks. It also ordered that those stores which could be collected were to be loaded with the men. Anything which they were short of would be requisitioned upon reach of the next outpost or fort.

While those matters were being seen to, the second lieutenant crept his way through the belly of the ship, subconsciously afraid to disturb the incredibly short patience of the ship's commander. It was a silly notion, he was a deck below and already on an errand for the Commodore and even if he were not it was hardly a crime for him to walk about his own ship, but it had been a trying two days. Once reaching a door the young man paused and rapped on it, there was a short beat before another his own age (a couple weeks his elder actually) but with short-cropped red hair appeared. He looked exhausted, embarrassed, and very cross. He was also still slightly damp.

"Best button up your coat before catching cold."

The cross look deepened in a frown before he signed, opened the door as an invitation and stepped back. Grumbling a moment under his breath he straightened out the borrowed shirt and waistcoat, then obliged by doing up the buttons.

"I am very sorry."

"You were hardly the one at the helm Theodore, you couldn't even see us over the side."

"Well yes but-"

"The ship couldn't be turned anyway, even if it could she doesn't change direction instantly."

"Well yes-"

"And I'm fine, only wet."

Theodore still hung his head a moment and shrugged. He signed and then invited himself to sit on the cot and effectively rumpled the perfectly tucked in covers. The red-head twitched. "Making yourself at home? What do you need?"

"We have to have something to offer, there's to be an officers meeting once you're presentable."

"We have a heading don't we? Which way did _Interceptor_ go?"

"Sou-south-east. They ran straight with the wind, but there's no promise it's the correct direction. Sparrow may have told him just what he wanted to hear."

Gillette raised his brows, quirked his mouth and fixed his friend with a look. "Devil's advocate?"

"Okay I believe they're to pick up a crew, they have to and we all know that. The question is what after?"

"Likely back to pirating. There's no reason for Sparrow to actually attempt a rescue. He'll either press Turner or dump him somewhere."

They remained in silence for a beat, Gillette doing his best to coax the dripping lump of a wig into its correct shape on its stand. "I suppose I'm presentable as one may be." His tricorn was loose upon his head without the extra padding and dipped nearly to his eyes.

Groves failed to cover a laugh.

After another scowl the friends traversed back to the main deck and from there to the Commodore's cabin which was to the rearmost position. At its back two closed ports housed a pair of guns which took up a great deal of space but were a necessity. There was a desk, night table, book shelves and swinging cot. Altogether the cabin was just as comfortable as his office and quarters on land. Gillette and Groves joined the third and fourth lieutenants, who had not been present during the earlier commotion and had only just arrived with the returning midshipman. They were good men who were steady under fire though slightly more timid and inexperienced, thus unsure of themselves. Unfortunately one, Palmer, seemed to regard the Caribbean posting as a punishment, the other at least considered it more an adventure.

Both were waiting, hovering a short distance from the desk behind which Norrington was spreading a series of maps. One displayed all of the many islands, the others were more detailed sections. He glanced at the two of them and after frowning even deeper at Gillette's partial uniform shook his head once and gestured for them to join the group. "We have until _Dauntless_ is loaded to make a decision."

They had until then to provide arguments and counters for _him_ to make a decision. He was simply a commander who was gracious enough to consider their input. For a long moment the staff only looked at each other and then him.

"Follow Sparrow."

Groves was surprised that someone besides himself had suggested that course.

"Why?" Norrington weighed down his maps without looking up.

"He was the one who offered the name of a ship…?" Ginnis made it sound very much like a question, an unsure one, and thus it was treated as such.

"We already discussed, they weren't his allies, and they left him in the cell."

There was a pause, a collective breath as a piece of information which had been missed in all of the hustle and confusion of the evening and morning. Two of the dead marines had been recovered from inside the gaol, they had been posted outside and ordered to remain to prevent prisoner releases during the raiding. Someone had therefore broken in, it wasn't the canon shot that had killed them, and those who had entered had therefore been seen by Sparrow. Perhaps, he may have passed that information on to Turner in order to negotiate his own release. If that were the case then to catch up to them would give a definite direction to go from there.

It was of course still not a perfect plan. But it was a plan. They knew where the pirate would go, if he could be caught, even were it after a crew had been picked up then they would have a ship, they would have identities, and they would have somewhere to look.

"Mister Ginnis, Mister Palmer." The junior lieutenants straightened. "Expedite the loading, I want to be notified the moment we're prepared to leave."

Once the door closed behind them Gillette and Groves were directed to open the detailed maps and from there into a full depiction of the islands in the direction their wayward ship had vanished. There was a great deal of open water that direction and only one real destination. They'd lost time, and they were losing time with each minute. Overhead more and more boots and bare feet signaled the crew embarking, and then below heavy thumps vibrated the floor. As the three planned, the ship came alive around them.


	5. Uncertain

A/N I am so very sorry for the long delay in updating. Things have gotten to be very crazy irl. Please accept this offering which has been sitting on my harddrive forever.

Curse of the Black Pearl Part 5 - Uncertain

After Tortuga the trail unfortunately became cold. Sparrow and Turner had stopped there. They had remained for a small handful of days to collect both a crew and supplies. A merchant who traded in pirated goods, buying them for low prices from the island and selling them at much higher fare elsewhere, became a somewhat unwilling informant to the events. He affirmed that the pirate was himself on the trail of the Pearl (when the scuttlebutt circulated around the decks of the Navy vessel some men scoffed at the name of a ghost ship, more made the sign of the cross over themselves, and for his part, Theodore leaned closer to hear more) that Sparrow did still have Turner with him, and the searchers were woefully far behind. Afraid as the man was to give up the bearings and direction that Sparrow had taken, only overt threat and a plea from the Governor persuaded him to do so.

The interview had placed them even further to the rear, but once the merchant was returned to his own ship another meeting was called while the anchor was weighed to ensure the officers were all on the same page of the next plans. Resulting was a decision to prowl within distant sight of the islands. Nobody knew or had even a guess where the pirates may be now, only the persistent story that the ship which had raided Port Royal was a ghost that made berth at an island which supposedly rose from the water and vanished again when they departed. But, nobody sailed forever without making landfall, so there must be an island and so they must find it. Lieutenants Gillette and Groves passed a confused, slightly skeptical, and sympathetic look between them once out of sight of their superiors. They were unsure of the success of their mission without firm direction and the time constraint but were content to sail as long as it was required of them – only feeling guilty of the anguish the affair caused the Governor and Commodore.

Governor Swann currently resided in the large office quarters which otherwise would have been Norrington's. Both men however passed a good amount of time there deep in conversation during the day. When on duty either separate or together, or crossing to the officer's wardroom, both of the senior lieutenants made it a point to walk passed the room and steal a quick look to be sure their charges were still well. In the evenings all of the staff gathered for a short meeting before dispersing to their quarters or to the watch. To accommodate the extra man and all of the rest of the crew, Ginnis and Palmer the two junior lieutenants shared quarters and so did Groves and Gillette. The marine officers made use of one of the opened rooms and Norrington had the last to himself. Aside from a Commodore making use of a mere lieutenant's room it was not unheard of for the rooms to be arranged like this, the Fort Charles men had all simply become used to the freedom and privilege usually afforded to them.

Despite prowling so close to the shoals, sometimes as close to shore as the helmsman dared to take the first-rate they saw no signs of the ships they were searching for. Several others were seen certainly, mostly small fishing sloops that when hailed occasionally mentioned a lone ship which might have been Navy but flew no colors or another, much larger that ran before a fog and frightened away all of the sea life. When pressed for information about this second ship, their mouths sealed and they refused to say anything further no matter how questions were worded or how much they were promised for the information.

At two weeks from the start of the venture, a week from Tortuga, the trail turned from cold to frigid. All sign and mention of Interceptor vanished. The sea itself became a vast desert. No ships, no boats, no life. No even the pods of dolphins that followed to play in the waves churned up by large vessels and entertained those on watch, or sharks that sometimes scavenged among the scraps tossed by the cook. Men became restless, Norrington agitated and silent aside from issuing instruction or demanding update of their position and progress. The travel of the sun across the heaven was the only indication of any changes during the day and the moon the same at night.

Like weather was wont to do on the islands, it changed drastically. With how still the air had been for two days those who were experienced knew there had to be a break soon. They were not prepared for the violence of it. The first warning was much like the day at the fort, the air which had one moment been still and stifling taking on a sudden chill. Then a haze similar to looking through a dirty window hung along the horizon to the stern.

Theodore was entertaining a pair of sailors with a card trick while Will looked on and occasionally shaking his head; he was overly familiar with his friend's antics. Both of them were called to look to the rear of the vessel and when they did, it was a strange sight. What began as a slight mist was now a black mass that divided the entire sky in two, it had snuck up within only a half hour and appeared as if the hand of God itself were holding the storm at bay from sweeping across the entire expanse. One side was day and the other night, night was steadily creeping forwards. It was chasing them, the wind which was now picking up propelled them forwards and they were obliged to take advantage of this mixed blessing for as long as they could. The sails filled and Dauntless sped forward cutting a sharp path through the waves.

It was full night when the full wrath of the storm caught up to them. Stark black surf which before had been merely choppy was now lifting high above their heads before crashing downwards again and sweeping across the deck with a threat to take men back into the sea with it. Little by little sail had been taken in, in the hopes to ride out the weather for as long as they could but it was a losing battle. It was becoming dangerous to remain on deck, to be up in the masts with the threat of being shaken loose and falling to their deaths either on the deck below or the waves.

So close to shore there was a risk of being run aground on a sandbar or pushed into some hidden reef or rocks. A quick choice had to be made over safe harbor or turning to sea and riding it out.

But to lose even more time…

Already there had been delay in setting out, in stopping at Tortuga, in searching the islands, and now the storm…

But they could be no help to anybody should some misfortune befall them. One ship had already been lost and the Governor himself was aboard this one. Had it been only themselves that was at risk there was no doubt that Norrington would give the order to put to sea and brave the storm, as he often reminded them however, it was not himself that he served. Sail was again taken in and Dauntless took shelter in a harbor that quieted the rage. Hatches closed against the pounding rain the crew huddled crowded together below deck. Protected they may be the storm still slammed against them and the ship still rocked hard enough to make most anybody ill with each wave. All night the pumps had to be manned in shifts. Rope fiber and pitch had to be applied where timber creaked and twisted enough to allow the sea inside the bunker. Outside the watch huddled in a poncho or great coat beneath the overhang over the quarterdeck and still return soaked through all his layers, drenched and miserable. In the wardroom the officers passed a night with wine and whist, alternating taking advantage of the rest afforded and grumbling (quietly) as all sailors did.

A few puddles swirled around the table, running first one way and then the other with the motion of the ship. Their mugs were only half full to avoid any more splashes and two cots had been hung from the ceiling for seats rather than risk being toppled out of their chairs. Jackets discarded and wearing instead shirtsleeves and waistcoats the four gathered round. Palmer tossed his cards and pointed a threatening finger across the table. "Having you as a pair keeps us at a disadvantage."

Mouth quirking Theodore looked sideways at his partner, "How so?"

"Well everybody knows that when you want, you can deal yourself an entire hand of aces and everyone else low numbers."

At any other table that would be cause for a quarrel, in the lower decks it would even be the beginning of a fight, as it was his friend bristled on his account and Ginnis cautioned his partner to be less rude. Theodore smiled, "True. That's why Mister Gillette deals."

"And yet, you both keep winning."

"Not every time." Will's voice was strained, but much calmer than the other, holding a steady warning that the conversation shouldn't continue this way. "We're only ahead by three tricks, and it's your turn to deal next."

Rather than be pacified the more junior officer, though a few years older than those he was accusing and much further into his drink, stood from the game and pointed again. "It was your idea to play! You think that getting us drunk and happy with games will keep everyone from realizing the errand we're on? We've been chasing a ghost!"

The mood, which had been light, then slightly strained, became much darker. Ginnis lay down his hand of cards and rubbed at his temples, Gillette and Groves stood and faced Palmer. They were no longer smiling. "Say again, Mister Palmer?" Questioned the first lieutenant.

"We've risked ship and man to chase down one girl. Anyone but Mister Swann's daughter we wouldn't do that for. Any other girl the parent's would have to accept she'd been snatched by pirates. It's only because Commodore Norrington fancies he's a chance with her. And he won't even sail in a bit of rain to fetch her back!"

Ginnis valiantly tried to pull the most junior man back into his chair while the other two became bright red and there was a very real danger of either one of them lunging across the table to defend the honor of commander, governor, and maiden.

Something dropping to the floor above their heads shattered the dangerous atmosphere, distracting all before something irreversible could happen. A chair scraped across the floor and they were reminded that solid wood though the walls may be, they were not soundproof, and the wardroom rested directly beneath the Governor's chamber.

"You're drunk." Gillette stated, "Retire to your quarters, Mister Ginnis, escort him."

The grateful man fairly leapt from his seat to wrestle the drunken sailor out of the room. Palmer swayed, and leaned heavily on him. The door swung shut. Neither of the remaining young men moved from their spots.

Theodore pivoted, he snatched up he own coat and threw it. The last of the wine was spilled and dribbled over the table edge.

A knock rapped at the door, "Enter." They had a guess at who it was.

It slowly swung open to reveal the Commodore, he looked tired. "The conversation could not help but be overhead."

The lieutenants ducked their heads and Groves quickly scooped up the mess left behind.

It was a long night.


	6. Swan and Sparrow Island

A/N: I apologize to everyone for the incredibly long delay in updating. Life took a very horrible turn directly before heading to univeristy, things are finally beginning to get back on track and I hope to have this finished within a few more chapters. This one has actually been sitting on my hard drive for a long time, I completely forgot it was there.

The usual disclaimers apply.

When the seas quieted once more Dauntless and her crew ventured out of the harbor to continue their quest. One storm may have passed them by with little harm done but there was another brewing on the ship herself. Norrington had passed an hour in the wardroom with Gillette and Groves before the three of them had turned in for the night, giving Ginnis ample time to handle Palmer, and the Governor opportunity to find rest upstairs in the big cabin. By their report, it was alcohol that caused the uncalled-for remarks, it hardly could be expected to reflect atmosphere among the crew and certainly not among the officers! Palmer was dissatisfied because younger men than himself were promoted above his station.

Groves added that he was likely mostly angry because he was terrible at cards, even when his opponent had not fixed the deck.

Though it was wane, the Commodore did smile and the reminder that officers should not gamble, and certainly should not cheat, was more because it was expected than because he was angry.

"You do know that we don't share his opinion, don't you?"

"I believe that if you did, you would be far more direct about it, complaining in my ear instead of under my feet. I also believe that you would be sober when you did so."

"Oh good, then you're aware that the salt in your tea tomorrow morning is all in good fun."

"That, lieutenant Groves." He'd said rising, "would be cause for serious reprimand. Would you like to bunk amidships in the evening? Gillette would enjoy having the cabin to himself I'm sure." Shoulders a little straighter he'd taken leave of them. Hearts also a little lighter the lieutenants finished putting the room in order and departed.

Palmer did not deign to join the officers for breakfast, nor for lunch. He did accept continual watch the entire day without complaint. During meal times he was relieved by Ginnis, their conversation was terse, it being made clear that the elder was not currently welcome in the wardroom, and that the consequences of his actions would be decided upon their return to the fort. The news was not accepted so well, but officers did not bicker in front of their men any more than they were punished in front of them. He supped in the shared cabin that evening. Alone.

After returning to watch the next day he steamed silently, before too long though his attention was grabbed by a cloud on the horizon. Fearful of another storm he strained to see it more clearly, then trained a glass on the mass. The cloud was dark like soot, it mushroomed up from the horizon, growing darker and denser the closer to the base.

Smoke.

Passing a call, a fire bell was rung and that summoned the other three lieutenants and the Commodore, the Governor trailed along behind the four of them. At their distance, it was difficult to tell whether the fire originated from a second ship, perhaps one of the two they pursued, or a body of land. A glass was passed around and it was scrutinized, but distinguishing features were unfortunately obscured and so it was decided to wait until they were closer and actions would be decided then. It was known that there was an island in that direction, they should be coming upon it soon and it was likely that was the origin of the flame.

Within two hours the crew was close enough to see that the smoke was indeed coming from the island. Norrington examined the smoke and the sliver of land through a telescope while the governor squinted as though he could force it into focus that way. "Someone has to have set it as a signal." The Commodore snapped the glass shut as he made the declaration.

Mouth dropping open Governor Swann questioned eagerly, "Elizabeth?"

Norrington's mouth drew into a line, not wanting to raise false hopes any more than he could stand to squelch them. Three of the officers exchanged glances, then two fixed cold gazes on Palmer to prevent him from uttering a sound.

"Take two boats and a compliment of Marines to investigate, bring aboard whoever set the fire. They may have news." Decision made, he retreated to the quarter deck. Palmer returned to his watch, Ginnis accompanied him and that left Will and Theodore to organize the away party.

Twelve Marines and eight sailors were selected, half-filled each boat with one of the two lieutenants accompanying them. While the party was large they had agreed upon that due to the question of who they might find on the island. A full crew that had been wrecked in the storm two days hence? A single marooned sailor or pirate, perhaps the smugglers returned to their outpost? It would hardly do to send a small party to be ambushed as was known to occasionally happen.

Skimming over the waves then the boats made good, though agonizing time. It only became more so when they drew close enough to see two figures awaiting them on the shore. One was deeply tanned with a mane of matted and beaded hair, a red cloth barely held it in check. The other a woman in a cotton underdress, pale under a red sunburn and eagerly dancing in the waves to get their attention as though she didn't already have it.

When the boats touched sand both officers excitedly leapt out and met the castaways in the calf-deep surf. "Miss Swann!" Groves grinned broadly though a bright red flush crept up under his own tan, and Gillette, pale no matter how long he was under the sun, could do nothing for the beat-redness of his features.

"Miss Swann." He forced his voice to remain steady, just barely. Any more words and the poor man would be reduced to his customary nervous stutter. Groves took over again. "We're overjoyed to see you! You're well I hope?" His dark eyes remained fixed on her face rather than travel over her form and confirm whether or not she was well.

The pirate, Mister Sparrow of course, opened his mouth as though to say something, then thought better of it and remained half-hidden behind Elizabeth with hands clasped together. At his movement, the party focused on him, could not decide whether they were surprised at his presence. Though the Marines leveled weapons in that direction, fanning out to circle around the rest of the group, Groves focused on the governor's daughter. "Your father and the Commodore will be so pleased!"

He recalled the presence of Sparrow then and turned to him, "And you, Captain Sparrow-"

Gillette appeared to be attempting to set the pirate ablaze with his eyes, "You, are under arrest."


End file.
